


Pineapple

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Trip [4]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm has a plan for helping Trip learn how to spar. It may be somewhat foolish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pineapple

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

Four MACOs, six _Enterprise_ security officers, and Lt. Reed were waiting in the cargo bay when Jon entered—and as he reached the mat set up in the middle of the room he noticed the doctor nearby as well, chatting jovially to Trip. "Isn't this a _little_ over the top?" he commented as Reed approached him.

Malcolm shrugged. "I don't want to take any chances, sir."

Archer sighed. Ever since Malcolm had proposed this idea to him he'd been back and forth over whether he thought it was good, or foolish. It seemed ill-advised to provoke Trip's defense responses unnecessarily, but as Reed pointed out, it would be better to know exactly what he reacted to and what he didn't, before a critical situation arose. "Alright," he finally decided. "Let's get started."

Malcolm nodded at one of the MACOs to join Archer on the mat while stepping back out of the way himself, to a good spot for observation. Trip dutifully stood off to the other side, as directed. "Right, Trip," Reed reminded him, "you just jump in whenever you feel the need, but remember this is only _practice_ , so pull your punches, alright?" Trip nodded obediently. "Like we've done before." With punching bags and dummies and other non-living objects, but Malcolm didn't feel the need to add that. He signaled Corporal Bevins. "Go ahead."

Archer braced himself, figuring he could at least get in a good work-out with this plan. And then found himself flat on his back on the mat within about two seconds. Trip still stood off to the side, his gaze at the Captain concerned but nothing more.

"Trip!" admonished Reed with surprise.

Archer continued the theme, with some indignation. "Why didn't you do anything?"

Trip looked at him innocently. "What did you want me to do, sir?"

Archer gestured to Corporal Bevins, who was helping him back to his feet. "He just threw me to the ground! You didn't feel the need to defend me from that?"

The young man blinked as if he hadn't thought of that. "No, sir," he replied. "You're just practicing. He's not really gonna hurt you."

"Wha—" Archer shook his head. "Travis wasn't going to hurt me when we were playing basketball, either, but you had no problem jumping _him_!"

Trip shrugged. "I'm sorry, sir. I can get between the two of you if you want—"

Archer held up his hand. "No, no." He didn't need to see Trip get _another_ unnecessary beating in the name of "defense training." He turned back to Bevins with a sigh. "Let's try it again."

Archer was flipped, knocked over, spun around, even got a few bruises from the sparring, but still Trip stood on the sidelines, ever apprehensive but ever passive. If he hadn't seen Trip take down that mugger in the marketplace personally, Archer might have thought Reed's reports were fiction. Except for the injuries, of course.

He shook his head after Bevins helped him up from the last throw, a little embarrassed that his breathing rate was above average. He should really get to the gym more often, he decided. "I don't really think this is working, Malc—" Archer missed the significant nod Reed gave to Bevins, but he could hardly miss the MACO popping him unexpectedly in the face.

In an instant Trip had tackled Bevins to the ground. "Don't move! Don't fight him!" Reed shouted at the MACO, who found it difficult to comply with those instructions with Trip poised above him, fist ready to strike.

"Trip!" Archer called, wiping the blood away from his nose. "Let him up, Trip." The young man stood but continued to regard Bevins warily. "Nice plan, Malcolm," he commented to the Tactical Officer, slightly sarcastic. "You might have warned me."

Malcolm looked just a little bit smug. "Would have defeated the purpose, sir."

"Sorry, sir," Bevins offered. Archer waved him off.

"So, it's the element of surprise, then?" the Captain guessed, still keeping an eye on Trip, who hadn't quite calmed down yet.

"Oh, perhaps it's the blood," theorized the doctor. "There are a number of species, including many large predators on Earth, who are finely attuned to the scent of blood and can whip themselves into a frenzy—"

Malcolm gave another nod and one of the other MACOs suddenly leaped at Jon from behind. He'd barely touched him before Trip had the man pinned to the ground. Archer sighed. "You're just going to keep doing this, aren't you?" he asked Malcolm, tapping Trip's shoulder to get him up.

"The element of surprise seems to be important," Reed noted analytically.

"I think you're enjoying this too much," Jon accused, wiping a little more blood on his t-shirt.

Malcolm looked quite pleased with himself. "I do enjoy my work, sir. It's important to check out every facet of the situation, after all. I think we still haven't quite got it down, though," he continued, beginning to pace alongside the mat. "I mean, Travis blocking you in basketball isn't exactly unexpected, is it?"

"No, I suppose not." Now Jon was warily watching everyone in the room, turning to see who would be the next to strike.

"Perez and Michaels," Malcolm suddenly announced to the two MACOs who hadn't done anything yet. "On my signal, I want you to charge the Captain as hard as you can." They nodded with what Archer felt was a bit too much professional detachment.

"Well, _that's_ not going to be a surprise," he protested to Malcolm.

"And, if you'll pardon me for saying so, Lieutenant," Phlox added with some concern, "if Trip fails to intervene, the impact could potentially be rather injurious—" Malcolm signaled. The MACOs charged.

Jon held his ground. They started from the far side of the room, so he had plenty of time to see them coming. Plenty of time to imagine that, indeed, the impact _could_ be rather injurious, and even time to imagine Malcolm cooling his heels in the Brig for a few days to prevent him from coming up with any more good ideas. "Trip, I hope you're going to do something," he muttered. There was no response.

Just when Jon could feel the floor pounding under him from the footsteps of the approaching MACOs, a blur jumped at them from the side, at an angle that sent both runners tumbling to the ground in one move. Archer's relief was short-lived, however, when he realized that this time, the MACOs were fighting back, and Trip was responding. While Malcolm observed it critically.

"Trip, you're not pulling your punches!" the Tactical Officer chastised, but the young man obviously wasn't listening to him. Out of self-defense Perez and Michaels stopped pulling theirs.

Archer watched for a few seconds, impressed that Trip seemed to be holding the two of them off well enough. After wincing on his behalf once too often, however, he decided to intervene. "That's enough, Trip. Come on, stop." He reached out to grab Trip's arm when suddenly someone tackled him from the side—one of the _Enterprise_ security personnel.

"Malcolm, what the h—l?!" Archer shouted, struggling to get up with the man pinning him down. Trip abandoned the MACOs and dove for Walters, knocking him off the Captain, who decided it would be prudent to scramble off to the side. Perez and Michaels rolled off the mat as well but were replaced by two fresh security personnel who advanced menacingly on the Captain—at least until Trip had pulled them down to the ground and started to keep them there with some well-placed punches and kicks.

Archer struggled to his feet. "Malcolm, that's enough," he said firmly to the Tactical Officer, not having previously suspected him of having such a barbarous streak.

Reed nodded. "I think you're right, sir." He turned to the combatants on the mat. "Sundeep! Alarone! Back down. Move away from the Captain." It was easier said than done, but eventually Trip seemed to realize they were retreating and allowed them to do so. He was breathing hard, covered in sweat and blood—not all of it his own—glaring at the rest of the room as if daring them all to jump in at once. Given the results so far, Archer was glad that hadn't been Reed's ultimate plan.

"One last thing, sir," Reed said. Archer turned to him with a glare. "I'm going to have to shoot you with this phase pistol." Which he was pointing directly at Archer's head.

Jon's jaw dropped. "That's not really loaded, right?" he gasped out.

Malcolm aimed and fired at a stack of mats on the other side of the room, setting off a small explosion of sparks and charred fibers. "Sorry, sir," he shrugged unapologetically. "Verisimilitude, you know."

"Uh, Lt. Reed," Phlox offered from the side, "you _do_ realize that if you shoot the Captain in the head, even with a phase pistol set to stun, the damage could be—"

Trip started to move. "One more step and I'll fire!" Malcolm shouted, causing Trip to stop in his tracks.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Archer accused Reed. "I'm not doing this anymore." He began to turn away.

"Sir!" Malcolm barked. He flicked a switch on the phase pistol and Jon's eyes widened. "I've just set this to kill. I suggest you come over here."

The look on Jon's face was as murderous as Malcolm's weapon, but he had little choice. "You'll be spending the rest of the voyage in the Brig, mister," he growled, as Malcolm got one arm around his throat and used Jon's body as a shield for his own.

"Nonsense, sir," Reed chided him, putting the phase pistol squarely to Archer's temple. "This is a necessary learning exercise. Trip," he added, glancing at the young man who watched him intently, "if you move _one centimeter_ , I'm going to pull this trigger. Captain, please don't struggle. My finger might slip. Thank you. But, I'm also going to pull this trigger after I count to, oh, let's say, seven. How are you going to save the Captain? Just pretend that I'm some sort of lunatic terrorist."

"That's not difficult to imagine," Archer ground out. "Bevins, Walters—"

"Oh, and I'll also fire if anyone else in the room moves," Malcolm added. "One." Trip cocked his head to one side, contemplatively. "Two." Pause. "Thr—"

They could never quite figure it out later. Even looking at the visual records from the scanners Malcolm had set up, everything was just a blur. But before Reed could get the next word out, Archer felt his arm go slack around his throat, the phase pistol disappeared, and Malcolm was on the ground ten feet away, moaning, hands covering his mouth and nose. Trip crouched near him, fist raised, waiting to see if he was going to fight back. "I give!" Malcolm insisted. "Pineapple! Pineapple!"

For a moment Archer thought Reed really _had_ lost his mind, which would explain a few things, but then the memories came flooding back so quickly he staggered.

_He and Reed in the Ready Room. "I want to try some surprise attacks, sir."_

_"If you tell me about them, they won't be a surprise."_

_Phlox. "I have a little idea, sir. Hypnosis. You won't remember anything we've said, anything you've agreed to, until Lt. Reed says the key word."_

_"I also want to hold you hostage with a phase pistol set to kill."_

_"What!?"_

_"There won't be a power source in it, sir. I'll set up a remote control charge to make it look real, so you'll think your safety is truly threatened."_

_"You think the sense of threat in my own mind is that important? Alright. What's the key word?"_

_"Pineapple, sir."_

Archer swallowed hard, found the doctor at his side. "Doing alright there, sir?" he asked cheerfully.

Jon was more concerned about someone else's safety. "Trip! Come on, stop it. Back off." He put his hands on the young man's arms and tugged a little. "Come on, it's over. Let's go."

Trip shook his head and blinked, seeming to come up out of a trance himself. "It—wasn't real?" he asked, bewildered, picking bits and pieces of information from Jon's mind.

Archer looked around at the numerous people who were nursing injuries. "I think it was real enough," he decided. "Malcolm, I'm not sure if this idea of yours was incredibly brilliant, or incredibly stupid."

Reed moved a hand away from his face long enough to spit out a bloody tooth. "I vote for stupid, sir," the Tactical Officer replied grimly.

"Come on, let me see it," Phlox was telling him, holding his hand scanner up.

"Is he going to be alright, Doctor?" Archer asked.

"Another broken nose, a number of loose teeth… I suppose he'll heal eventually," Phlox told him, disapprovingly. "I must say, Lieutenant, you really could have been killed with this scenario. I mean, we had _no_ idea what Trip might do."

"Yes, well, looking back," Malcolm agreed painfully.

"I'm confused," Trip complained, right before he started to weave.

Jon caught him. "Easy there."

Phlox was pointing the scanner at _him_ now. "Dramatic drop in the adrenaline levels," he announced. "Should make some fascinating data to study later, anyway." He stood and helped Malcolm to his feet. "I think we should probably all adjourn to Sickbay, Captain."

"Good idea."

T'Pol was waiting by the cargo bay door when it opened. "Was your plan a—" She stopped to watch as first Malcolm, bloodied and wincing, limped out with Phlox, followed by Archer propelling Trip. Perez, supported by Bevins, and Michaels, propped up by Finnegan, followed. Walters, Sundeep, and Alarone passed her next, each injured to some degree. "Captain?"


End file.
